Heart Victorious
by madmissymel
Summary: Ginny is the beloved mistress of Renwyg Castlea Saxon legacy of women chieftains that has endured for 900 years. Now, suddenly, she is stripped of her power, her home becomes he's slave.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

_Normandy, 1044_

The metallic taste of blood filled Severus's mouth. One eye was nearly swollen shut adn several teeth were loose from blows received. "Alex, leave the little bastard alone until the baron arrives," said the man building a camp fire. Severus prayed the advice would be heeded as he hung like a limp shirt in Alex's fists.

"We should kill him now and have done," Alex said as he shook Severus like a dog with a bone.

"_Non_, Verily will do it. It is his plan."

Though he was nearly unconscious, the information burned into Severus's mind. His abduction and assassination had been planned by his own baron. Cuffs like a cur, Severus fell to the ground and welcomed the hard earth as a soft cushion. With his hands bound behind him , unable to defend himself Severus offered no resistance.

As he drew a deep breath, a haze of pain enveloped him. The assailant's boot had not bruised him ribs, but had broken them. Though his body was bludgeoned and beaten , his sprit was not. He drew short, even breaths to stem the wave of nausea and fight the unconsciousness. When his assailants made a mistake, he would be awake and take his chance to escape.

With his ear pressed to the ground, the dew-soaked grass soothing his sore face, he could feel the vibrations that announced an approaching rider. The partial vision lift in his right eye slanted to the two assailants huddled before the fire. Deep in dinner and drink, they were unaware of the rider. Severus smiled. From the men's lax behavior, he inferred that the baron was not to arrive until later.

In the dead of night, Arthur Weasley galloped though Normandy. As he bend forward in his saddle and urged the animal on, clumps of wet earth and crumbled leaves churned up behind the racing steed. Suddenly, the animal's gait changed and Arthur pulled back on the reins. Finished with the mercenary's life, he wanted to be out of this cursed land and home in Scotland, but he would not lame a horse to do so. The animal had a strained a muscle and he was still hours from Calais and his departing ship. Through the dense trees, Arthur noticed a flickering light in the distance. A campfire so close to where he must make camp could not be ignored.

The trees gave way to a clearing where an armed party of two gathered around a meager fire. As Arthur rode into the site, his sharp eyes caught the shape tied and struggling youth. Without showing a flicker of interest, he focused his gaze in the men at the fire.

"Do not be alarmed," Arthur said, noticing both men had covered the hilt of their swords. "I am the Laird Arthur Weasley and my horse has thrown a shoe."

The firelight shone on the features of the two men but only one advanced. "I am Soren and this-" he swung his hand toward his friend. "- is Alex. We are on our baron's business."

The condescension in the Norman's voice drew a thin smile from Arthur. "What business sees a boy bound and gagged?"

The Norman held his ground. "This bastard is a threat to Normandy." Soren moved forward, a sneer on his lips. "What say you now, Scot?"

Arthur returned the contempt, his gaze hard and sharp. "I have little interest in Norman politics." Then, still watching the man, he slipped from Norman language into the heavy burr of his homeland. "And even less interest in cowards and traitors. Merlin smites these Normans!"

Arthur turned his horse as if to leave but it was only a ploy to unsheathe the sword undetected. Before Soren could offer a defense, the Scot's weapon pierced flesh and sank deep into the soldier's chest. Alex ran forward with his sword drawn, but he was little match for Arthur.

Arthur quickly dismounted and untied the bruised and bloody boy. He had been sorely used by those who meant him harm. "So, lad, you are a threat to the Norman throne?" Arthur couldn't hold back a laugh.

Though the boy was outmatched and weak, he rose to face his rescuer proudly. "Weasley, if you hate the Normans so, why then did you spare my life?"

Arthur was shocked that the boy understood his language. He studied him. Though his face was misshapen with one eye swollen shut, the remaining eye was clear and held his gaze. "I dinna like the odds. Besides, I dinna hate all Normans." He gave the lad time for his words to sink in before adding, "But make no mistake, lad, when you are full grown and wish to meet me on a field of battle, I'm honor that fight. Scots make war on men, not children."

Arthur Weasley, I am in your debt. I will remember your honor. If there ever comes a time when you need my assistance, you have only to ask."

"You are a bold lad." But even as he said the words, Arthur knew the lad's promise was no idle boast. "What is your name, boy?"

"Severus, Duke of Normandy. Remember it. You will hear it." The words were spoken as calmly as the others but this time there was a passion and conviction that even the laird who had scoffed understand.

Though it was obviously caused the lad great pain to bend over, young Severus searched the dead men's bodies. "They carry a king's ransom. Mine."

Arthur let the exaggeration pass: He thought the boy a high-born aristocrat who, in the heat of excitement, colored his importance. The pouched of gold lay ay Arthur's feet. "Where will you go, Severus?"

"Back to my stronghold, from which I was abducted."

The boy asked for no help and, it appeared to Arthur, needed none. Extraordinary, in light of the circumstances and the danger. There were still powerful men who would shed fortunes to have a kid murdered. Arthur stared at the pouches of gold.

"Ride with me, lad," Arthur offered.

Young Severus nodded his head in agreement; then removed a ring and handed it to Arthur. "Remember this night. For your kindness you have earned a place in my affection. And I am true to those I trust."

Weasley smiled indulgently at the boy. There was something exceptional about this lad, but surely he was not the Duke of Normandy and monarch of this land. Yet, he could almost picture young Severus on the throne. Unbidden, the image formed in his mind of Severus as the _conqueror of England_. It was an uncanny and unsettling vision. Though he tried to shake off the though, it persisted. His gaze was drawn to the gold. A king's ransom, he thought, then pondered- could it be?

"Bring the gold, Arthur. Our destiny awaits," said young Severus.

And without question at the tone or the command, Laird Arthur Weasley followed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Part 1

"Dear Merlin," Ginny whispered as she started down at the Norman army before the castle gates. They had run out of time.

"Put down your weapons and open the gates. Surrender and all those inside will be treated with clemency. Resist and no mercy will be shown."

At the sound of the Norman's voice, everyone in the castle turned to look at Ginny for answers. Only Kayla seemed able to move and that reaction was fueled fear and panic. She ran from the courtyard, tripping on the stairs as she climbed up toward the empty battlement and her sister-in-law. Ginny knew that the Norman words- harsh, curt, and foreign- fell on Anglo-Saxon ears like unintelligible noise, sound without meaning. Only she understood the foreign tongue and wished she did not.

"What do they want?" Kayla asked as she joined Ginny at the wall.

"They say that if we surrender, they will be kind masters," Ginny said, staring at the Noman Army from the safety of the walkway.

"What will you do, sister?" Kayla's face grow pale. She looked around, as if suddenly a miracle would materialize.

Lady Ginny took in the frightened face of the women as they clutched their children to their sides before turned back around to answer Kayla. "You must lead our people throght the tunnel. Go to our brother in Scotland. He will shelter you."

Kayla blanched. "But the journey is long."

"The broader is only ten miles from the tunnel exit, " Ginny said, giving thanks that the loaded cart of wealth had left the night before. "You must do it. Follow the wheel-rut's."

Kayla began to wring her hands. "I'm frightened. Ginny, you must do it."

"Would you rather stay here and face the Normans?"

The little color left in Kayla's face drained away. "Nay. I will lead them," she said and bowed her blond head. "What about you?"

Ginny smiled wanly. "I will stay and create a diversion to give you time to get away."

The pain in her sister-in-law's eyes was hard to bear. They embraced and Ginny walked to the wall. Leaning over the edge, she stared out over the vast army of Normans. She had learned the Norman tongue from her father when she was but a child. Speaking the language through the years had been an game, shared between her sire and her, to exclude other from the conversation. She prayed her memory would not fail her. A women's voice would not be questioned if she was the interpreter.

Ginny took a deep breath and shouted from the high walkway. "Norman, the lord of this castle bade me speak his words. He says that there needs not be any bloodshed. He will send out his best warrior to face yours. The winner will determine the fate of the conquest."

One rider, a huge warrior, advanced. "What trick is this Saxon?"

"Nay, 'tis mo tricky. One of our soldiers will face one of yours at midday, when the sun is sun directly overhead, on yon field." She pointed across the landscape. "'Tis said that Normans fear nothing. Were we misinformed?"

"I accept your lord's challenge, my lady. But be warned, this is resistance."

"Aye, Norman. But if your man fails, _you_ will surrender." The warrior laughed and led his horse back to the column of men.

Ginny nearly sagged with relief. She had feared that Norman would not accept her challenge. Now that he had, she would not allow herself to think of the outcome. It would be far better to die than meet the fate the Normans had for Saxon Women.

In the court yard, Kayla stood surrounded by the growing crowd. No one listened to her. Bethany shook her head. Kayla was such a timid creature. Shouldering her way through the milling villagers, Ginny raised her hand. "You will leave with Kayla. If you wish to live, you will keep your children quiet and make haste for the border." Ginny faced her sister-in-law and handed her the ring her father had given her. When she started to remove the girdle and dagger worn by the eldest daughter, Kayla took a step back.

"I could not, Ginny. Do not ask this of me. By our custom 'tis yours to passed to your daughter. I can only receive it," she pushed, her voice catching, "if you die with out an heir." Kayla pushed the girdle and dagger back into her sister-in-laws hands, refusing the honor of the possessions and the accompanying responsibility.

Ginny understood her sister's hesitation and did not press the point. Soon enough the matter would be out of their hands. She turned to the village women. "Go now and may Merlin be with you." Half the villagers looked at her funny but none questioned her.

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"Merlin's tooth, Draco. Why did you agree to those terms? Legally, the castle belongs to you."

With his attention on the castle, Draco answered, "Brother, after the out come of the contest the Saxon will not be able to question my right of ownership." Draco noted that the stone blocks did not need to be reworked. The castle has been well maintained.

"I should have known you were not reacting to the Saxon's taunt. Logic, not emotion, rulers you." Aden slapped his brother on the back and noticed Draco's serious expression. "Will you be using magic?"

Draco shook his head and continued to stare at the castle. "Do you not think it is strange that there is no one on the battlement?"

His younger brother, Aden, gazed up and studied the walls. "What do you make of it?"

"Take some men and look for a cave or tunnel. I don't wish to be out flanked by Saxons."

Aden nodded his head and turned his horse to do his brother's bidding. Draco faced the castle. I would be his final conquest. He needed the respite from war. Merlin, he was tired. Death and destruction drained a man's soul. He longed for the life of a quiet country lord for which he had worked and fought. Now, all that stood in the way was one soldier. He would meet the man himself. It was too much to count on another.

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Lady Ginny did not know what to do. She could not use her secret in front of the Normans. Dressed as a young page Ginny walked onto the field. She blocked out the insults and slurs, the laughter at her size. Her horse stopped at the end of the field, and she waited as one rider approached. He was massive. His chest wide, his arms as large as tree limbs. This soldier needed no padding to fill his tunic. She knew she would not last the first contact.

"Be you ready?" a deep voice behind the helm asked in the hated Norman tongue.

Her back remained straight as she refused to give any indication she understood the Norman language. His hand coved the hilt of his sword as he inclined his head in her direction. Afraid to trust her voice, she nodded. He drew his sword and waited for her to do the same.

The broad sword was difficult to unsheathe, and she struggled with it before finally managing to pull it free. The weight of the sword pulled her arm down, and she needed both hands to hold it upright.

The champion laughed at her struggles. "Do they send a boy to battle for a castle? Hold the sword steady, boy. The waving makes me dizzy."

Swinging his sword, he advanced, and Ginny knew the sudden tasted of fear. She raised her weapon in a valiant effort to repel the force of his strike and felt his blow clear to her shoulders. Perspiration dotted her upper lip as she struggled to bring her skittish horse under control.

Fear lent strength to limbs as she pulled back hard on the reins while raising her sword for another attack. Steel met steel with a loud clash, and the teeth-jarring contact dazed her. Her arms were numb, and through a dizzy haze she saw the sword swing towards her again but could not block it in time. The flat of the blade bruised her ribs, the force knocking her from the horse. She tried to rise, but the weight of the armor held her pinned to the ground.

The warrior dismounted and stood over her, his sword pressed against her throat. "Do you yield?"

"Nay," she whispered, forgetting to disguise her voice.

The sword tip withdrew and he knocked the helm from her head, spilling her hair out across the ground.

"Merlin's teeth! What is this?" His voice sounded like thunder in a quiet room.

"Have done, Norman," she spat, panting to catch her breath.

He reached down and grabbed her chain mail, lifting her clear off the ground with one hand. Suspended in midair, she found herself face to face with him and glimpsed the dark gray eyes behind the helm. A shiver went through her at the coldness that stared back. She prayed in was a trick of light that made this man's eyes seem so merciless.

"A women! They dare to send a woman to do battle?" He shook her, expressing his disbelief.

Her teeth rattling and her heart pounding, Ginny struggled in his grasp as his men advanced, being his mount. He threw her over his horse and rode toward the castle with his men in tow. Slung over the saddle like a sack of grain she bore the jolt of each stride in her ribs. Though the ride back to Renwyg was short, by the time they reached the castle, her lungs felt beaten and she had to fight for each breath.

On their arrival, the Normans found the doors barred. The mighty warlord barked an order, but no answered from within the castle. "Lying Saxons," he snarled, then to the soldier beside him. "Blaise, climb the wall and open the gates. Show no mercy to those inside."

A stout Norman soldier dismounted, yelling orders to the others to throw ropes with hooks to upper battlements. Several soldiers scaled the wall after Blaise and disappeared behind the stone edifice. In a matter of moments, the doors opened and her captor was informed that the castle was deserted.

With a growl, he rode inside the empty courtyard and dragged her from the horse. Walking into the main room, he threw her to the floor. "Where are they?" he demanded. Ginny remained silent. Brushing the rushes with her hand, she looked around the room. Through her terror she felt a small measure of satisfaction, and a wan smile touched her mouth. She had saved her people.

He advanced on her, overshadowing her with sheer physical presence that was both menacing and overwhelming. Though she felt substantially cowed, to her credit, she did not cringe. "This is your last chance to answer me. Where are the serfs?"

"Far from here," she grasped, finally catching her breath. She had beaten this mighty warlord. Inhaling deep long draws of air, she added in defiance. "Enjoy your spoils. Without the villager, you castle is worthless."

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Exiled from the familiar and imprisoned in the darkness, Ginny sat in the cold cell, terrified. The wind swirled around the tower like cry of ancestral sprits wailing in shame. Tears of misery slipped unheeded down her cheeks. She was utterly alone.

Though she had put up a brave front today, inside, her heart was breaking. Wrapping her arm around herself for warmth, she felt the rough clothes of the squire. Skimming over the short tunic and tights, unconsciously her fingers slipped to her hips, missing that girdle, the symbol of her status. The thought of the legacy gave her measure of comfort and wiping away the tears, she took a deep breath. She would not bend nor break. She had 900 years of pride to uphold.

With her family and people safe, she would resist the invaders and, if possible, escape. Her mind was racing with sudden ideas. Though the Normans were unaware of it, Renwyg Castle had not one but two escape routes. They would find the northern tunnel, because that's what they were searching for, believing southern escape route to be useless to the Saxons and easily discovered by that advancing army, marching from London. She silently blessed her ancestors for their forethought: if an army approached from either direction, an escape path existed for retreat. If only she could flee the tower and make her way to the unused passageway, she could join her family in Scotland.

The following evening, Ginny was lead into the main hall by Blaise and pushed into a chair. The Norman had neither molested nor mistreated her. Now, she wondered if that would change. Across the room, the warlord stood listening to a report from a soldier.

It was obvious that they were related; their build builds and features were too much alike. Both men were a striking sight, with silver blond hair and eyes so light that in first glance they appeared to be white but were in truth sunlight gray. Ginny thought the warlord's features were the more arresting. He was not as handsome as the younger man, yet his rough-hewn face possessed character and seemed more commanding and interesting than the other's near-perfection.

The Norman leader listened intently to the soldier, and then a slow smile crossed his lips. She stuck by the difference that expression made in his appearance and frightened by what had given him such pleasure.

"Come here, mademoiselle."

Ginny remained where she was. She would not answer the man's summons. The soldier standing beside the warlord shook his head at such insolence and started toward her. He pulled her to her feet by the scruff of her tunic and dragged her back to the warlord.

"Brother, why not just beat her?" the young man asked.

"I have already beaten her in combat, Aden," he said, then turned toward the standing by the door. "Blaise, bring them in."


	3. Chapter 3

Slave Chappie 3

Ginny glanced past the burly guard opening the door, then gasped as Kayla entered, followed by the women and children of the castle. A counterpoint of sounds echoed off teh walls. Whimpers, wails, and hiccupping sobs of frightened children joined their mothers' comforting voices, blending together in a composition of fear.

"We tried, my Lady. Truly we did," Kayla said.

Ginny nodded her head and blinked her tears away: in that span of a heartbeat she suffered all the impotent anger, and devastating frustration that travel in the wake of conquest. They were truly beaten.

"You will translate my words to them," The warlord ordered.

Ginny stared at the villagers who were herded like sheep into the great room. Their frightened gazes locked with hers, seeking assurance, and pain stabbed her heart.

"I will not translate." She croaked the Norman words out, trying hard to swallow her tears at such a humbling display.

The tall Norman raised an eyebrow at her refusal. "You will not?" He pulled his sword free of its sheath. Ginny drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the blow. At the gesture, a smile of pure contempt crossed his features, and then he pointed the weapon straight at her sister-in-law. "Bring her." Two soldiers grabbed Kayla and hauled her kicking and screaming over to the warlord. Bret chose that moment to run from Lavender to Ginny, clinging to her legs, her stared in terror at the Norman holding a blade to Mary's throat.

"Nay, do not harm her," Ginny shrieked as her gaze pleaded with the warlord for clemency. Searching for and finding no mercy in his eyes, she held his gaze and nodded slightly. "I will speak that which you wish translated." Ginny waited until the warlord replaced his sword, then disentangled Bret's tight grip and picked him up. He wrapped his arms around her neck and hid his face in her tunic.

"The prisoners will kneel and swear fealty to the new lord of the manor, Draco de Malfoy.

The words clogged in her throat, and Ginny closed her eyes, unwilling to watch her people give their allegiance to this Norman. She despaired that her plan failed them so completely.

Still whimpering, Kayla knelt before the warlord and said her vow, then whispered to Ginny, "Pray forgive me."

Ginny struggled to smile encouragingly. "It is all right, Kayla. You did your best." Shamed at seeing her sister on her knees, Ginny turned and faced the warlord. "I will not swear allegiance to you."

"It is not necessary. They are serfs, owing me only partial service, but you...you are a slave, my slave."

"I am no slave, least of all to a Norman master."

"You challenged a Norman in combat. You lost. You are now a slave." His tone was matter-of-fact. She almost hated him more fore his lack of gloating. Though several of her father's favorite cures came to mind, she kept them to herself. Silently praying for guidance, she planted a kiss on her nephew's forehead, then tried to hand him over to her sister-in-law, but he immediately began to fuss. Ginny refused to give in to Bret's beseeching gaze and tearful pleas. He would be safer with Kayla.

"Tell the women to prepare a meal for my men," the Norman warlord commanded. Her tears, smarted from tears and she choked out the order.

The women dispersed immediately, though their furtive glances strayed to their young mistress. Kayla also stared at Ginny; but unlike the serfs, she remained in the middle of the hall, holding Bret and looking helpless and terrified.

"'Tis you sister?" Malfoy asked Ginny as he eyed Mary speculatively.

"Sister-in-law, he husband died three summers ago," Ginny replied, worried that the warlord's contemplation boded ill for her beautiful sister. "You will not harm her," Ginny insisted.

"She is a daughter of this house and as such will be treated with respect."

Ginny almost sagged with relief. She translated the words for Kayla and saw the fear lessen in her eyes.

"Aden, take the Lady Kayla upstairs," Draco commanded. When Kayla cringed at the soldier's advance, Draco added, "Tell her 'tis my brother, Aden. She need not fear any harm from him." The handsome soldier came forward and bowed with courtly grace before Kayla, while Draco restrained Ginny from going to her aid. "Who is the child in her arms?"

"My nephew, Bret, his mother died in child birth and his father was killed in the war last summer with your, King Snape," Ginny said defiantly, knowing he believed Bret to be her son and, therefore, deserving of sharing her fate.

"'Tis a shame you did not surrender, then you would share their status. Since you dared to challenge me, you will remain dressed in squire's clothes so all may see your disgrace."

Ginny raised her chin. "My only regret is that you did not perish by my sword."

"You will have much time to think about your foolishness. You will attend my needs. See to my bath so I may wash this filth away. And, slave, make sure the water is hot; I cannot abide a cold bath. After that, have my belongings placed and stored in the master chambers."

Ginny whirled about and left the main room. _Attend my needs._ Oh, she would indeed see to his needs, but he might wish she had not. _A bath._ Fine. She had a few surprises for her Norman warlord.

Ginny hauled the water to the master chamber and heated it in the large kettle over the fire. She looked sadly around the room. It was her sire's and she could not bear the bought of the invader making free with his home. This room above any other was special. Her parents had enjoyed their private moments here. Often Kayla and Ginny had spent the day sewing with their mother by the hearth. She closed her eyes to the memories. That life was over, gone with the advent of this new lord. She hated him.

"Is the bath ready?"

His voice startled her and she nearly dropped the pot of boiling hot water she was carrying. Without a word she poured the last container in the tub and watched with pleasure as the stream rose to the ceiling. _Boil, you son of Darkness._


	4. Chapter 4

Aye, 'tis ready."

"Is it hot?"

She had to suppress the smile that threatened her lips. "Aye 'tis hot." She started for the door but he called her back.

"Hold. You are not dismissed." She turned around at his superior tone of voice. "Since my squire is busy, I will need assistance." Ginny gritted her teeth and approached him, then waited for him to speak. "Do you know not what to do?" She knew and dawned him to hell for his baiting. Her father had never allowed her to attend a guest's bath. He did not hold with the custom and now she knew why. It was humiliating. "This chore is usually reserved for the lady of the house. Do you wish for me to call your sister?"

Ginny let the blood drain from her face. "Nay, she would find it as distasteful as I."

His deep rich laughter filled the air. "Then hurry before the water grows cold."

That remark gave her pleasure. Cold? It would take half the night for the water to cool. She reached up his chest, feeling the cold links beneath her hands, but the tips of her fingers barely brushed the fastening on his shoulder. Although the closure proved just out of her grasp, he did not sit to make it any easier, and she would be damned before she asked him for assistance. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched to undo the armor, her arms and back feeling the strain as each strap slipped through her figures. She nearly dropped the heavy woven medal rings, and when the covering was free, the weight dragged her arms down.

He smiled at her predicament and stepped out of the heavy garment at his feet. "It would seem that you have never done this before."

Ginny blushed from the tip of her toes to the top of her head and she tried to finish removing the tunic with looking or touching the man. She turned and stared at him. The laughter in his eyes raised her ire. "Strapping an invader holds little interest for me."

"Someday you might find the experience rewarding. But I will take pity on you. See to my clothes while I finish removing my pants." His hands moved to the belt at his waist.

Relieved that she didn't have to strap him naked, Ginny whirled around. This one tiny kindness humbled and humiliated her more than bring beaten in battle. Ginny had never been, nor would she ever be, an object of charity. She moved to the clothes chest his men had deposited in the room and opened the lid. Behind her she could hear him moving around and the sound of clothes being dropped. She could not wait for him to get into the tub. Covertly, she removed his tunic from the floor and waited for the yell of pain. She heard water splashing but no pain filled cry.

"Ah the water is comfortable. Remember, slave, this is how I like my bath water."

Merlin, he was the son of Darkness. She kept her back to him as she folded his clothes, trying to block out the splashing sounds. The water had been poured straight from the kettle into the tub. It would be scalding hot.

"Hand me the soap, Slave."

Unable to look at him, she picked up the chunk of soap from the tray and took a chunk of soap from the tray and took a cautious step backwards. Careful to keep her eyes averted, groping for the rim of the tub, she thrust the soap behind her.

Hot water splashed her hand and she cringed from the heat. He was a devil. "Closer, mademoiselle; I cannot reach it." She moved a foot back and thrust her hand further back. Another spray of water hit her back and she gasped, jumping away from the tub. Laughter filled the air and, forgetting herself, Ginny spun around.

The warlord was on the other side of the tub half dressed, "The water is just a touch to hot. You will need to fetch two buckets of cold water." Ginny snatched up the buckets and stormed out of the room, his mocking laughter following her all the way down the stairs.

"Lady Ginevra pardon me," Bret nursemaid said as Ginny filled the buckets. She was one of the only staff members that knew Ginny and her family's secret. "Why do you not use magic," she whispered.

"If the warlord was to find out I'm a witch what would he do? I can not take the chance. Spread the news no magic, even Bret needs to be careful." Ginny looked around making sure that no one was about. "What is it, Parvati?" Ginny asked, noticing the strain and hesitation on her old friend's face.

"We would have made good our escape if not for the noise that led the Normans to us."

The children, Ginny thought sadly. "Children cannot be expected to understand the gravity of the situation."

"Nay, the children were as good as angels. It was Lady Kayla that gave us up."

"Kayla?" Ginny gasped.

"She heard the soldiers and became frantic. I wanted to box her ears for it. Knowing the sacrifice you had made."

"Kayla," Ginny repeated in bewilderment, then remember the nursemaid. "I am so sorry, Parvati." Knowing that Kayla had ruined the plan hurt more than she could say. "I will not fail you again."

"No one blames you, my lady. We all know the length you went to assure our safety. It breaks my heart to see you as a slave and your sister-in-law as a lady. You are the true lady of this castle. "

"'Tis done."

"Take care you do not rile the Norman," Parvati said, a fearful expression clouding her aged features as she met her mistress's gaze.

"'Tis too late. I think I was put on this earth to do just that." She bid Parvati farewell and climbed the stone steps with the buckets.

The bath was tempered by the cool water, and she immediately went to finish the chore of unpacking the invader's belongings.

"What are you called?" he asked from the tub.

"I am Lady Ginevra of North Graham." She said her full name, unable to keep the ring of pride from sounding in her voice. "But I'm called Ginny by my friends and family."

"'Tis a weighty title and much too formal an address for one such as you. Never mind, slave, I will think on it." There was silence for a moment, then his voice rang out. "Nevra, fetch my clothes."

"My name is Ginevra," she said through clenched teeth.

"Nevra, fetch me my clean clothes." This time, Ginny didn't argue. Snatching up his clothes up, she stomped over to the bath and laid them by the tub. "I'm called Draco de Malfoy, but you will call me _my lord_," he said with droll amusement in his voice.

Ginny swore neither name would pass her lips. "Is there anything else, warlord?"

"_Oui_, slave." He extended his hand with the chunk of soap resting in it. "Scrub my back."

Ginny swallowed hard as the soap dropped into her palm. She moved around him and held the rough soap by her fingertips. The muscles beneath his flesh rippled when she drew the soap lightly down his back and across his shoulders. Her face burned at the intimacy and yet, some how could not look away. She was fascinated by the difference between them.

"Slave, you may not be familiar with bathing but you need to scrub to get the dirt off." He held a cloth over his shoulder.

Ginny gritted her teeth at the insult. She had never been so filthy in her life, covered in mud and ground-debris from her fight with him yesterday. She took hold of the cloth and dug the rough material into his shoulders. The flesh was red from her harsh treatment, but he didn't complain. However, she noticed that his muscles tensed every time she started another stoke. A small smile spread across her lips. By the time she was through, he would not have an inch of skin left that was not red and sore.

"Slave, that feels wonderful, but you have yet to scrub the skin below the water."

The smile on her face vanished. Below the water. She closed her eyes and lowered the cloth down beneath the waterline. So intent was she in finishing her task that her arm swung madly across his buttocks and sloshed water over the rim.

"That will do; now you can start on my chest." He leaned back against the rim and folded his arms behind his neck, looking very relaxed. Ginny didn't know if she could. She moved to the front of the tub and stared at the floor. This was beyond any humiliation she had ever suffered. "What is your delay, slave?" he asked his tone serious. She lifted her head to meet his gaze and saw the amusement in his eyes. Damn that man. He was laughing at her! Her chin rose a notch and she lathered the cloth with angry strokes.

_Breast! Spawn of Darkness,_ she cursed silently, holding on to her angry and nurturing it as she ran the cloth across his chest. His light haired chest glistened in the suds and her figures tingles as if they were asleep and then suddenly awakened. A fine current shot through her veins as she realized this warlord stirred something in her. She chanced a glimpse into his light blue eyes and noticed the gleam in their depts. Quickly, she looked away. She could not bear for him to know what she was thinking.

"Do forget to wash all of me, slave," he said laughter in every word.

Ginny closed her eyes. He knew what he did to her and was making her endure more. Damn him. Pretend he is dead or so ancient that he cannot lift his decrepit body without help. Good, if she thought of him as a helpless old man, it was a bearable task. But when she washed down his chest and followed the thin line of hair down his belly. It was not a limp rod she felt but a firm shaft. Her face flamed and she jumped back from the tub. There was no way she could pretend he was old.

"I have finished. Will there be anything else, warlord?"

"_Oui_. From this night forward, you sleep here." He pointed to the bed. "With me."

"NEVER!"

"Never, mademoiselle?" An eyebrow arched in disbelief as he held her gaze. "Have you not learned that opposing me is futile?" he pointed again to the bed. "Upon yon pallet, you _will_ rest your head next to mine."

Frustration and fury burned with in her. "Why?" she demanded, unable to believe his command.

"Because you are my slave."

"And as you slave I will do any and every menial task you ask but I will not play your whore."

His eyes narrowed. "You will do what I say. This is not a request, Nerva. It is an order. You will sleep in my arms."

"I will not." Ginny throw the cloth back into teh tub, splashing water and soap up into his face.

"Do I need to get out of here to prove my point?"

Terror surged through Ginny and she took a few steps backward away from the tub. "Nay, I will go get my clothes," she lied, bartering her integrity for ingenuity. She needed time to outwit him.

"Slave, do not make me come look for you."


	5. Chapter 5

Slave Chappie3

Taking a deep breath, Pansy leaned forward and tried to concentrate, a frown settling on her brow as she struggled with the words on the paper. Reading was such a chore. Like ciphering and scribing, reading was genially too tiresome to pursuit. After all, one could hire someone trained in the menial tasks. Unfortunately, if one wanted to keep things private, then sacrifices must be made.

Why did Draco use such long words? Slowly, painstakingly, she sounded out each syllable. After several attempts, she understood the message. ENGLAND! That godforsaken isle? If only he had died, she would never have to leave her beloved Normandy.

She paced the room, formulating her reply. Then, thoughtfully, she reformed her acceptance into four small words she could spell. _I wil come soon._ (A/N: I know will is spelled with two 'L') She blew on the ink to make it dry faster then smiled at her work. She would not cross the channel until the last possible moment. With the curt missive written, she placed it aside and thought of the fun she would have visiting her friends before her exile.

"Morgan!" Pansy bellowed for her maid. The young girl ran into the room, looking like a scared rabbit. "Pack on bags. And mind that you do a good job or I will have you whipped."

There were so many important families to bid farewell to. It could take months. The serving girl moved in frenzy. Her obvious fear brought a smile to Pansy face. She enjoyed her station and the power it held. England. No doubt the serfs there would be worse then here. The thought was appalling. She was going to live among savages.

Pansy boxed Morgan's ears. "How many times do I have to tell you to fold the tunic in thirds, not halves?" Tears glistened in the young maids eyes. "Do not rouse my ire again," Pansy said, indifferent to the servant's weeps, but vowing that if one teardrop stained her clothes that girl would rue the day she was born.

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Ginny kept her eyes averted from the sleeping pallet. Curiosity ate at her restraint, but she would not tempt fate and look at the Norman. His snores continued to full the air and Ginny poured water into a basin without alarm to the noise she was making. Then she placed the flagon of ale next to it and looked around for the goblets.

"Are you looking for these?"

The goblets were shoved before her eyes and her gaze skittered from the hand that held them up the arm to the shoulder and finally the face. He was awake and fully dress and she had not heard a sound! She glanced at the bad. The mound remained unchanged, but now the snoring sound came from the figure before her.

"You were awake the whole time?"

"_Oui_. A warrior does not sleep so soundly that an enemy can approach and place a sword in his gullet."

She inhaled slowly to calm her apprehension. "I have brought you warm water to wash and ale to easy your thirst."

"Such a thoughtful slave. Where were you last night? I had a need that was not met." Her face buried from the question and she tried to turn away and slip to the door. His massive hand seized her shoulder. "You will never make it."

Frustration and anger filled her. "I an not afraid of you."

A smile actually creased on his lips. "I noticed that. But, from now on, you had better fear me. I want your clothing brought in here. This is where you will reside. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny nodded, "I will bring my clothes."

"Nevra, I seem to remember warning you that if I had to looking for you, there would be consequences."

Ginny stared at him. Hostility and loathing filled her gaze and she didn't bother to concern her hatred. "If it pleases you to beat me over this, then I will speak my mind and tell you that I would rather be beaten than share your weight in bed."

"It is fortunate that I do not take you at your word. I tell you true, maiden, you try my patience to the limit."

Ginny looked at him curiously. Although women ruled this demesne, she knew that elsewhere things were difficult. And she was mindful of the beatings and punishments woemn frequently incurred at the hands of their husbands, let alone their masters and lords. She was suprised he had not already retaliated.

"What will you do when you lose you patience?"

"You question me? Do you have any instinct for self-preservation?"

"I must know what manner of man rules my land and people."

"_Your_ land and people?"

"Aye, they look to me and I am responsible for them."

"Now anymore," he said with finality.

"I am responsible for them. If I were not, I would have left last night, not hidden."

"Which bring us around to the topic. Where were you last night?

Ginny swallowed the lump of fear. "It does not matter."

"You asked what I would do when you pushed me beyond my limits." His gaze narrowed and seemed to bore into her. "If my question remains unanswered, you will find out."

Ginny took a step back. She felt trapped. An inner voice told her- _tell him, you can find a new hiding place tonight._ "The tower. I spent the night in the tower and until you lust waned and it was safe to return."

"Safe to return?"

"Aye, safe. The sun has risen," she said and at the his puzzled expression, expanded, "You will not be abed where there is work to be done. Besides, 'tis daytime. Surely you could not want--_that_, in the daytime."

The Norman stared at her, blinked, and then stared again as though he did not believe the sight before him. Laugh lines crinkled from his eyes, and he covered his mouth trying to clear his throat.

She hastened to pour him a goblet of ale. "Here, drink this," Ginny instructed. Though he did as told, Ginny noticed an expression of humor in his gaze but she did not comment on it. She was at enough of a disadvantage without showing her ignorance.

"You are right about one thing, _chérie_," he said finally, handing her the goblet. "I have a very busy day ahead of me." He smiled, showing bright white teeth, and the expression lit up his eyes. Leaning forward, he brush his knuckles across her cheek. She felt a rush to her toes. A deep sigh passed his lips as he pulled away. "Work must be seen to first." With obvious regret, he withdrew his hand, turned and left.

Ginny felt warm all over. The man was truly handsome. For a Norman.


	6. Chapter 6

Slave Chappie4

"My Lady, the Normans are returning," Lavender said, breathlessly as she rushed into the room.

Ginny fold the letter into thirds and placed it back into the warlord's trunk. Discreetly, she brushed away the moisture gathering in her eyes. "Thank you, Lavender." Ginny dragged the trunk back to it place, next to the clothes chest. She stepped back to study the position. Satisfied, she turned and said, "He'll never know."

"Did you find anything?"

"Aye, he is fond of his family." Ginny shook away the thought. She didn't want to see the warlord in a different light. "I must find a way to defeat him," she said aloud.

Lavender dabbed at the sweat on her forehead. "If he finds you digging into his personal things-"

"Don't worry, Lavender," Ginny said. "I know what I'm doing."

"That is why I worry."

Ginny didn't say anything. He words were honest and from the heart. Lavender left the room. There were a few things out of place, so Ginny quickly began to right them, but stopped upon hearing a strangle scraping sound. It made her nervous.

Suddenly, Kayla's voice scared her, distant yet urgent. "Come quickly, Ginny," she called.

Ginny threw open the door and immediately stumbled, falling straight toward the balcony rail. Her face cracked into the top of the balustrade and slipped passed the rail. She hung over the great hall, catching her momentum with a death grip on the rail. The room below started to spin as dizziness engulfed her. She had nearly been killed. Taking a calm breath to still her racing heart. Ginny sank to the floor, holding her cheek. Her gaze traveled to the doorway and what she tripped over.

Merlin's teeth, Ginny could have swore she placed that bucket away and safely away of harm's way. Hell, she had used magic to lock the closet, her nephew's new wand was within as well. If she hadn't grabbed the rail, Merlin, she didn't want to think about it. Despite the evidence before her, it was still hard to believe that she could be that careless.

"Ginny, are you okay?"

She looked up to see Kayla hovering above her. "Aye, sister." Ginny accepted her help to get up and then asked, "Why did you call?"

"I wanted to tell you that the Norman was calling."

I knew that, she felt like yelling but the sound of horses walking over the stone courtyard, Ginny pulled herself together for the coming ordeal. Through the chamber door, she noticed steam raising from the tub and grimaced.

The Norman's bath awaited the master of the house. The thought soured her mood even more. This was her home, not his. With frustration and anger, she rose and grabbed the offending bucket. She would store it safely away this time.

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Everything was read when the warlord and his men enter the hall. Ginny hated the foreign conversation that floated to her ears. She kept her eyes down and prayed to Merlin for the patience when the warlord's brother made a unpleasant comment about the flavor and fare in Saxony.

"No worse than the homely women who love on this isle," said Draco. Ginny's head snapped up and she found herself looking into the laughing eyes of the warlord. He knew she could understand them and by the pleased look on his face, he was baiting her. Suddenly, his humor vanished and his face grew solemn as he looked at her cheek, "Who struck you?" he demanded. When she remain silent, unable to understand his interest, he grabbed her chin and tilted it upward to get a better look. "I know the mark of a hand. Who did this to you, chéri?"

She didn't want his concert and what was worst, she did not want to explain. "Leave me be."

"She tried to pull away but he held her tighter. "Do not refuse me, Nevra."

"'Twas no one's fault. I had an accident."

At her explanation, the tense lines about his mouth and eyes disappeared. Softly, he her cheek. "Take care, chéri. A face so lovely should not be marred."

Beneath his gentle touch, Ginny felt a warmth surge straight to her heart. His tenderness and flattery unnerved her. She did not want to let her guard down. To feel anything besides hatred for this man would be traitorous. She steeled herself to retreat behind a barrier of anger and mistrust.

A slow smile teased his lips when she squared her shoulder and jutted her chin up in order to look down her nose at the invader. When he winked at her, she whirled around and picked up a flagon of ale.

"Nevra,-" His deep voice carried an edge of warning, "-do not even think it."

She stared up at his face and wondered how he knew what she was thinking. Still, it would be worth the punishment. Just as her heart won out over her common sense, she noticed Kayla's pale face. It was easy to tell that the episode had scared her. Ginny would not get her revenge at the price of Kayla's peace of mind.

With a great deal frustration, she slammed the tankard down. Damn. Meek didn't have its rewards. Several deep breaths brought her emotions under control and slowly she raised her gaze to meet the insufferable Norman's.

"Slave, see to my bath!"

Slave Chappie5

This time when she crept back into Draco's room, Ginny was wary. The sunrise had lit the way as she carried the water and wine into the room. Last night she had been victorious but today she would see her defeat. Her stomach twisted with every step taken toward her aversary. Matching wits and wills with Draco de Malfoy was dangerous. She hated to admit it but it wasn't his strength but her weakness that placed her at a disadvantage. For the first time in her life Ginny was aware of the opposite sex- and not just any man but the man who took away her world. Thank goodness it was daytime.

The door opened and she looked inside. There was a pile of blankets on the bed. She looked around the room in a full circle before continuing. There was no where in the room that a man of his size could hind. She placed the wine of the table and poured the water into the basin.

"Where were you last night?"

She gasped and whirled around. "Where did you come from?"

He stood with his arms folded across his bare chest and looked down at her. "Nevra, I am not a mystery. You are." He was to close to her to think. She tried to step back but the table was blocking her. Draco placed a hand on the table on each side of her, cutting off her side escapes.

"I am back now," she said with a false brightness.

"_Oui_, Nevra, you are here now."

"Is that not what you want? A slave to server your needs?"

A smile spread across his lips and the sight of it warned her before his hands closed around her arms. "That is exactly what I want."

"Nay, 'tis daytime."

"That, my dear, would serve you well if I had any duties that needed my attention."

"But you have duties. EVERYONE does," she said, feeling a rush of panic. Could she have been wrong about men and their bed needs?

"I have entrusted my brother with more responsibilities."

"Why?"

"Because you keep disappearing at night."

Her heart was doing summer-salts. Oh Merlin! She had made a grave error. She knew that her time of out-wit him was over. Her knees began to weaken and she felt the panic raise into her chest. "Would you force a maiden?"

"'Twill not be force, my dear."

Ginny relaxed. If he would not force her then she had nothing to worry about. "I am relieved to find you a man of honor."

"Honor?"

"Aye, you will not force me, so I have nothing to worry about."

"Have you never been with a man before?"

"Nay, I have not chosen my mate."

"You would do the choosing?" His question mirrored his disbelief.

"Aye"

"You have strange customs here."

"Our customs are different. I am sure that you would not like to be at someone else mercy and yet, you expect me to be overjoyed."

"Enough. I realize it is better to be among the victors than the vanquished. But you cannot expect me to feel sorry for you."

"I did not ask for your pity."

"_Oui_, you not ask for anything. I actually admire that about you."

"Why would you admire me?"

His hands cradle her face. "Why do you make things so hard, Nevra. Is compliance to a Norman betrayal?...Is that why you fight me? There is nothing you can do. Nothing. I have won the right to you and I plan to enjoy it."

"Why?"

"Because you are a beautiful woman." Then it hit Draco, she didn't think she was beautiful. Draco moved her in front of a looking glass, "Look at yourself, what do you see?...Well?"

"Well what?" she asked. "It the face I have looked at for the pass eighteen summers."

"Can you not see what I see?"

"Ginny studied the image in the mirror." Red hair, too many freckles, and eyes the color of a field newly churned for planting."

"I see hair, a rare color that I have never seen before." He let his fingers drift through her hair. "The shade has all the warmth and fire of a flame but it soft and cool like a flower petal. Angel kisses on your cheeks that beg a man to kiss each one of them. The proud chin, bright eyes, lovely mouth that has driven me wild every night that I have been here."

She shuddered as his hand continued to work their magic. He stroked and massaged her skin with feather-light touches.

"Please, I can not think with you so close to me."

"Passion is not a matter of the mind. I am a man and I cannot resist you." His lips grazed her cheek. "Are you a witch?"

Ginny felt her heart stop, did he know? "If I were, I would not be a slave. Please..." she answered trying to hind her fear.

"Please what, Nevra?" His lips moved over her face. A shiver of pure delight shot through her spine. Then a strangle weightlessness came over her, as if her bones were gone and her support was coming from him. "Just trust yourself." His breath caressed her ear, then his lips were on her chin and making there way down her throat.

"You must stop."

"Why, does this not feel right?"

Right and wrong didn't matter at the moment. Ginny was lost to Draco's soft touches. To a maiden never kissed it was overwhelming. He nuzzled her neck and then her shoulder. His arms slipped behind her and suddenly she was lifted and held against his chest. She could hear his heart pounding at the same fast speed as her own as he crossed to the bed. Just as her was about to protest, Draco's lips covered hers again and the bed beneath her.

Draco joined her there, his hands all over every inch of her body. The tunic she wear was open and pushed around her waist. Ginny gasped as he took to kissing and licking her nipples.Ginny was lost. She could stop him as much as he could stop the rain from falling.

She wound her arms around his neck and shoulders, drawing him closer in a silent acceptance. He gathered her into his arms, embracing her within caress that promised much more. His month covered hers and his tongue slid across her parted lip, teasing, stroking, and tasting, before consummating the kiss.

Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on the door. "Draco, are you in there?"

Ginny felt her tense as he raised his head and glared at the door. "What is it, Aden?" he called out, his voice was husky.

As the door open, Draco cursed, and hitching up the cover to shield Ginny's naked body from his brother. "Draco, there is a Scottish entourage. They had sent a message to ask for a audience."

"What do they want?"

"Within the hour they will be at our gates with a man that swears he is your slave's betrothed. He says that he will challenge you to fight for the maiden."

"What?" Draco turned his gaze on her. The warmth that had singed Ginny moments before was gone. "Who is he, Nevra?" he demanded. When she remain silent, he said, "You told me that you had not picked a mate."

"My brother must have taken matters into his own hands."

"When the Scotsmen arrive, send the intended up here," Draco said to his brother.

"Would you wish to shame me?"

"I wish to see how matter the man desires you." She looked at him confused. "It is simple, if you intended walks into the room, sees you look this, and still wants to fight than it is greed, not lust, drives him." apparently, she still saw the confused look on her face. "There is still the matter of your missing fortune. Did you think that I had forgotten it?"


	7. Chapter 7

Slave Chappie6

"I thought you would be lying in bed and could use a bit of a push to hurry." With a soft chuckle, he moved toward her. He was pleased about something and that worried her. "Nevra, you bridegroom was once a catamite."

"Catamite?" she asked, not knowing or caring about the meaning. "What matter of importance is it to you where in Scotland he comes from. You are from Normandy. Your place of birth is not a crime nor is his." She looked away and swore under her breath. "Only a lack-witted Norman would judge a man by the color of his clothes and the riches in his pockets."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, falling to hide his smile. "Oh, Nevra, to teach you a lesson, I should let you wed him."

"What do you mean?"

Gently, his hands stroked her back, "With a face and form such as yours, it is hard to believe that you are an innocent." He rested his head on top of hers. "You would not wish me to gift you in marriage to this man."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath and with a resigned expression looked into her eyes. "Nevra, trust me, you would not like being married to him."

"Why?" Ginny asked again, her eyes narrowing at his silence. "Do not treat me like a half-wit."

"As you wish, Nevra." He massaged his neck, as if forming the words in his mind, then looked at her. "But remember, it is you who wanted to know. A catamite is a boy who sexually serves a man...someone who like the same sex."

"WHAT!" Ginny yelled, pulling away from Draco.

"You didn't notice that he paid more attention to my naked body then yours?"

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"I will fight for the maiden," Harry said. Ginny was stunned as she translated the message to Draco. The great hall was filled with Normans and Scotsmen. Food was laid out on the table and everyone was listening to her as she translated the warlord's words to her brother, Ron. Then, she translated his words to Draco.

"Why do you bother? It is obvious you have no interest in her or any other women."

The young man did not appear afraid or ashamed. "I will fight for the maiden," Harry repeated, he bow to Ginny as she told the Norman what he had said.

"If I fight you, will you accept defeat and never return or seek revenge?"

"Aye."

"What about you, Weasley?"

"When you best me in battle, Norman, you will have my promise and nay before. I only ask that you release Kayla and Bret after the fight." Her brother stood tall and straight as he faced his adversary and in that moment Ginny felt proud than ever before.

"Some day we may meet on a battle field, Weasley, you my have Kayla and Bret." He turned to the challenger, I honor your request, Potter."

After translating, Ginny turned to follow the man. She was not going to be fought over without speaking her mind. "I did not agree to this contest." Her French stop the Norman in the place. All male conversation started. Half the hall's gazes reflected admiration-the rest, shock-at her brass.

Draco turned around slowly and pinned her with that stare she had come to know and hate. "Slave, you have no more voice in this than you had when I defeat you on the field of honor."

"What if you do not win? Do I have a say then?"

"Do not worry about the contest. I would never let a passionate woman waste away with a man who did not appreciate her charm."

Draco's voiced thier approval with cheers and whistles, while the Scotsmen grumbled loud enough to heard in the next village.

Ginny couldn't tell what happen next, the door was closed in her face. She was left in the great hall while her future was being fought over. Bret was left in the hall as well. It wasn't fair. The only hint she had to who was winning was the yells and cries of the soldiers. There was a silence and then what sounded like a Scottish war cry. Had the Scotsmen won?

Ginny could hear men moving outside the hall but who had won. The hall doors opened and Aden walked in holding Draco up. She could see blood coming from his arm. His challenger walked in after him. Who had won? Who owned her?

"Know this now, Weasley, Ginevra belongs to me."

"Mary, Bret, give your things. We will be leaving within the hour."

"_Non_-" Ginny translated to her brother for Draco.

"You would go back on your word?"

"_Non_, I will release them when you send the riches from here back."

Ginny stared at Draco. This was her only chance to get Kayla and Bret away from here.

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"Kayla, I want you to pack some clothes and some of Bret things. Go into the second tunnel and star to walk. Ron will be waiting for you. Bret's wand is in the hall closet next to the lord's chambers. Do you understand?"

Kayla nodded." What about the soldiers?

"Lavender is going to give them a sleeping potion, I will keep his lordship busy tonight, so you can get away." Ginny hugged her sister one last time and then went to finish her chores before she had to get the water ready for Draco's bath. "I gave my father's ring to Ron. He will know what to do with it. Be safe and remember I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

"Enter!"

At Draco's command Blaise opened the door, Ginny followed him in.

"Come over here, Blaise, and tell me what you think of this," Draco motioned for the soldier to come and view something on the bed. Draco pointed to the linen. Ginny had to stand on her tiptoes to see over Blaise's shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the deadly snake cut in half.

"It would seem that a coward would have this snake kill our dear lord. It is not a accident that the snake is here. The viper was taken from its winter sleep and placed here."

Ginny's stomach knotted. Kayla had just been nearly here. She had been in danger. Thank Merlin that she had not been bitten.

"I will take care of this." Blaise wrapped the serpent in the bed sheet and carried it out the door.

"Thank you, Blaise," Draco said. "If you would be so kind to guard my door tonight, I would be very grateful."

Ginny stiffened. She had not expected that order. The soldier nodded, and then shut the door behind him.

"To ensure that you do not slip away from me again. You seem to do that a lot.

Ginny turned around, unable to look at him. Even if she managed to get him drunk, she would still be trapped with him all night. Even if he was well into his cups, to spend the night with Draco was unthinkable. Her mind rushed frantically to figure out a way to get out of the room.

"Why do I get the feeling you are planning a new escape?" He pulled her into his arms before she could offer a protest.

The moment his lips touched hers, a current ran through her. The kiss became a union of taste and texture. It evoked a shiver that was both colder than a winter night and hot then a summer's day.

She almost sighed in relief as his lips stilled and she could gather her thoughts. But suddenly his tongue brushed her bottom lip and slide into her mouth. She was lost to him. She wanted things to slow down and yet, she wanted them to speed up as well.

It was uncanny that Draco knew what she was thinking. "Trust me," he said, "and all your fears will be put aside and all your question answered." He kissed her again, slowly, softly. He would not force her, she had to be strong. Of all the men in her world she could not choose her enemy.

She did not resist when his hands slipped over her hips and waist. His lips traveled from her mouth to her neck. She submitted when his hands slipped beneath her tunic and gentle slid it away from her body. His fingers caressed her as they worked their way down her body. Her kiss, shy at first, became more bold and matched his ardor ones.

She felt bereft when he pulled away, but then his lips traveled lower, his teeth taking small nips from her shoulder and grazing across her breast. A shiver of pure delight shot through her. His hands slipped further down her body. Slowly he peeled her tights off and they joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Touch me, Nevra," he whispered.

She slowly began to remove his tunic and tights. He swore under his breath and began to help her with the clothes. He picked her up and up and carried her to the bed.

The warmth beneath her fingertips did not surprise her. His body glowed from being in the sun. Draco shuddered as her fingers stroked low on his chest and he reaction excited her. The building of pleasure within her peaked with each sound and shiver he made.

"Nevra, wrap your lags around me." His voice was husky and a bit sharp. Without thought or resistance, she complied. His hands softly caressed the line of her chin, then cradled her face. "I wish there was a way to do this so there was no pain. It will last only a moment, Nevra and then it will be replaced by pleasure. Trust me."

Like dim sounds in a deep fog, his words confused her. Pain from him? It did not seem possible. He had given her so much pleasure.

Then he thrust into her and she felt like she was being ripped in two. His mouth swallowed her painful cry. When he was imbedded, he stilled. Softly, he kissed her cheeks and the tears that had fallen. "I am sorry. There was no way to avoid it."

Ginny did not answer him. In her pain, all she wanted was for him to get away fro, her and even tried to push him off, but he remained.

"Shh, little Saxon, it will be better from here on."

His kisses and soft caresses helped to ease her mind. The fire he had started began to rebuild. The tender kisses grew more urgent and consuming. And for some reason, she responded to that urgency, instinctively knowing that what she craved was there, just beyond reach.

When he moved again, her soreness passed. She tried to match his rhythm but he stilled her hips. "You go to fast. You are driving me mad."

What did he think he was doing to her?

Once kindled, the flame of her passion did not simmer but burned out of control. Engulfed by a fever that was fueled by need, she pushed his hands away and frantically met each thrust. Harder, faster, she hastened the pace, racing for release.

Then she stilled as though her whole world had gasped.

As if overtaken by a sudden storm, she was showered with turbulent emotions. She could not understand it but held on to him as he cried her name into the air, then shuddered and collapsed on her.

As she floated downward, she sighed, utterly content. So this was lovemaking. Now, all the stories she had overheard in the kitchen made sense. No wonder people did it often and with such fervor.

"Nevra." He caressed the side of her face. She moved as close to him as embrace would allow.

As though he could not bear to not be a pair from her, he rolled to his side, gentle taking her with him. His smooth, light finger-strokes slid over her shoulder and back. Little circles drawn up and down her spine grew larger each pass until his hands no longer massaged but fully embraced her. Whispered kisses that began feather-light became long, slow and deep. She returned his ardor with a passion that drove him wild.

They made love again, this time with an exquisite tenderness and exploration that left her breathless. When Draco cried out in passion, Ginny's voice joined his.

Exhausted, Ginny fell asleep in his arms. For the first time in all her life, Ginny's dreams were peaceful. At day break Draco woke her with a long, lingering kiss. In a sleepy haze, she basked in the glow of his lovemaking; then, slowly, reality intruded and the memory of the troubles and problems that beset her before retiring last eventide returned.

She was about to pull out of Draco's arms when a hard pounding on the door startled her. He pulled away slightly but kept her close.

"Who dare disturb me?" Draco called out."

"Brother, I must see you. 'Tis important." sounded Aden's urgent reply.

"It had better be or I will see you staked out and spitted."

Aden opened the door and grinned at the sight of them in bed together. "Your pardon, but we have a guest."

Ginny heart leaped at the thought of a new guest. She was reminded of their last one.

"Who is it, Aden?" Draco asked his weariness and frustration unmistakable.

"You betrothed has arrived."

"Pansy?" Draco asked, instantly alert.

"_Oui_, and she wishes to see you posthaste. Should I send her to your bed chamber?"

"_Merde_," he answered, clearly annoyed by his brother's jest.

Ginny raised her face from the covers. Burning with humiliation and mortification, she turned to Guy. "aye, send his fiancée up. 'Twould be interesting to see how much she desires him,"

Aden smiled, but Draco did not. "Hold your tongue, woman," Draco ordered. "Remember that you are a slave and do not give orders. I will go down stairs." He leaped from the bed and dressed quickly. After he tied his fastenings, he turned to his brother. "Stay with Nevra and make sure she does not get into trouble.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Something (I have kinda lost count).

Hello to all the people that are reading thing fiction. I say welcome and welcome back. I know I haven't been posting for a while but that will change.

As you can see I when through all of my chappies and changed a few things (spelling and grammar errors) but none of the big details. Some things also got mixed up and a few of the chappies got combined. Sorry for the confusion but to all you reads you should be able to pick up right here and be fine with everything!

"Did I leave my beloved Normandy to bear the rigors of this uncivilized island, Draco?" The arrogance in her voice permeated the air like a damp, chilling mist, leaving those it touched under easy and uncomfortable.

Ginny was in shock that Draco would allow anyone to address him in such insolence in front of his men. But if he were content to remain silent, Ginny was not about to stand still while her land and her people were insulted by this condescending sow.

"Nay, Lady Pansy," Ginny said, her tone unmistakably dry. "I heard you left Normandy to marry your beloved." Ginny extended her hand toward Draco. "However, if you find the hardships here outweigh your desire, then it would be prudent of you to return home."

The woman's face mirrored her disbelief at the rebuke. Aden appeared pleased while Draco remained impassive, yet a hint of humor sparkled in his slate eyes. Pansy's rage flickered across her countenance, but she maintained a tone of bored disinterest as she turned to Draco. "I'm very disappointed, _cheri_, that you would allow your slave to be so disrespectful." She then glared at Aden. "I am not surprised _you_ are pleased by this peasant's behavior. Crudity is something that I would expect you to enjoy."

"My lady, you are mistaken. It is not I but Draco who is pleased by Ginny." Aden raised Ginny's hand and placed a chaste kiss on her palm.

By the quick tightening of her expression, Ginny could see that Pansy grasped Aden's meaning. "It would seem that this isle holds more for the men than I had thought." She started at Ginny with a pitying look that said far more than words. With a long suffering sigh, she turned to Draco. I had not realized that the campaign was so long. Now that I am here, things will be different.

Though he remained silent, Draco raised an eyebrow at the last remark.

"Are you giving Draco orders?" Aden asked.

Pansy shot Aden a sharp glance but turned a contrite face to Draco. "_Masi oui_. I am sorry, _cheri_. I am truly not myself from this dreadful traveling. Please forgive me incautious tongue."

"Pansy, do not worry yourself. I will have a room prepared for you." He turned to Ginny. "Tell Lavender to see to our guests' needs."

"Tell her yourself." A smile of pure satisfaction curved Ginny's lips. When Draco did not react to her defiance, she tired to goad his temper further. "I no longer will act as you interpreter," she said with a great deal of delight. Her family was safe; he no longer had leverage over her.

"Are you daring to challenge me?" Draco asked quietly while every Norman looked on in shock.

"Aye. There is nothing you can do to force me to your will."

"The insolent wretch," snapped Lady Pansy, and the deep-throated voices of his soldier grumbled in agreement.

"Blaise," Draco bellowed.

At the summons, the soldier appeared. "_Oui_, my lord. What say you?"

Staring stonily at Ginny, Draco spoke to his man. "Bring your charges here."

"As you wish."

A moment later, Ginny looked up to see Blaise escorting Bret and Kayla back into the hall. Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked to make sure she had seen right. Dear Merlin, her eyes had not played her false. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she knew she had fail…again.

Draco looked at Ginny pointedly. With an angry oath, she spun about and order Lavender to see to the Norman lady's needs. Ignoring Pansy's gloating expression, Ginny held her head up, refusing to act humbled or defeated. When Pansy had departed, Ginny tried to move away but Draco clasped her arm and restrained her. "We will discuss your rebellion in a minute." With a slight incline of his head, Draco signaled Blaise.

The soldier immediately escorted Kayla and Bret toward them. Bret ran with the free abandon of a youngster unaware of the intrigues around him. Kayla followed cautiously, as though dreading the moment she would face Ginny.

"What happen?" Ginny asked as her brother ran around her and Draco.

"We were followed," Kayla stated simply.

"How could you be? No one knew of your departure."

Bret pushed his way between Draco and Ginny and pulled on her dress to get her attention. "It was the warlord," Bret said. "He knew."

"What are you talking about, Bret? He could not have known."

"He told me that as the man of the household I had to take care of my family. He said that running away solved nothing." It _sounded _like Draco, but how could he speak to Bret? He did not understand their language. Suddenly, an ugly thought occurred to her. "Bret, when did he first talk to you?"

"Ever since her first came, 'twas a secret. We play a jest on everyone."

"Impossible," Ginny muttered, trying to still the fear that this was not a game. "Little boys who make up stories often find themselves going without dinner," she warned.

"Little girls who call the lord and master a _dim-witted lout_ often find themselves in a more precarious position than going without dinner."

She heard Draco's voice—clear, crisp, and concise as he uttered each word in Saxon. Not only did he speak her language but he did so flawlessly. Merlin's teeth! What a fool she had been. Humiliation burned deep within her, her pride ground beneath a Norman boot. Slowly, she tried to pry Draco's fingers loose from her wrist but to no avail.

Kayla picked up Bret and held him. "What will he do to us, Ginny?"

There were times when she wanted to box Kayla's ears. _Ask the warlord yourself. He understands our language!_ Ginny wanted to scream, but instead held her tongue. If Kayla were to challenge the warlord, he might take his angry out on her.

Swallowing her pride, and giving Kayla a reassuring look, Ginny took a deep breath. "I am responsible for their action and will bear the punishment.

Draco ignored her and spoke to Kayla. "You will retire to your rooms." The frightened, pleading look Kayla sent Ginny wrenched at her heart.

"What do you plan to do?" Ginny demanded of Draco, unable to keep the touch of panic from her voice.

Whatever I decide, the boy will not suffer. I hold him innocent- unlike those who unwisely control his actions."

"Any Kayla?"

"Kayla is not bold or smart enough to execute the escape by herself. Still, I cannot let her actions go unpunished."

"You could show mercy."

"I'll think on the matter," Draco relied. He turned to Kayla. You will await my decision in your room."

Kayla nodded then scurried out of the hall with Bret in her arms. Ginny tried to follow, but Draco gripped her arm. "You are to go to our room and await me. I will be up after the work is completed."

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"This ring is the answer to their prayers," Ron muttered to himself. Ginny was a smart one, thank goodness. He held the ring up to the light. "'Tis no mistaking the emblem. 'Twas Snape's ring."

Ginny had heard the story and knew that Snape was their last hope. Though a Scotsman dinna like to admit to defeat, Ron would have to depend on the Norman King to honor the debt he owed to his father, Arthur. Ron had little choice but to leave for London, England.

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The hours had dragged as Ginny waited for Draco to return and announce her punishment. Suddenly, she heard the unmistakable sound of crying outside her chamber. She pulled the wooden door open and found little Bret covering his cheek trying to stifle a sod. She knelt and hugged the child to her. "What is it, Bret?"

"That bad lady hit me."

The words chilled her. "Who?"

"The one that wears all the shiny stones."

Only one woman in Renwyg castle had jewels. A Norman woman. "Shh. It will be all right." She rocked her brother in her arms. When his sobs quieted, she whispered. "Why did she strike you? Were you bad?"

"Nay! I was bringing you this from the warlord. 'Tis your punishment." He held out his hand and she grasped the missive.

Ginny quickly scanned Draco's directive, written in Kayla's handwriting, her jaw tightening at the tone and list of instructions detailed as her chastisement for the escape plan. Her only consolation was that he held her accountable and not Lavender, for drugging the guard's wine. "Merlin's teeth," she muttered, thinking that cleaning his armor and weapons, the very instruments of her vanquishment, was a task designed to remind her of her status. Seething, she folded the note and placed it in her smock.

"What was Kayla's punishment?" she asked.

"Kayla must rise early to help Lavender with the bread." Bret sniffled and through his hiccups, he said, "When Pansy saw me, she said I must read her Draco's message. She hit me when I could not."

"Don't worry, Bret. I will deal with her." A red haze slipped over Ginny's vision as rage welled up in her heart.

"I want her to go away," he wailed.

Ginny rose with her nephew in her arms and went down the stairs. Long past midday, the night meal was being placed upon the table. Pansy sat between Aden and Draco. Ginny walked over to Kayla and handed Bret to her, then turned and approached Pansy. When she glanced up, Ginny slapped her hard across the face. "If you ever touch my nephew again, I will kill you. Remember my threat," she stated in a low, even tone that belied the turmoil roiling inside.


	10. Author's Note

Author's Note

June 2006

Dear Readers,

It has come to my attention that some of you believe I have given up on this fanfiction, which you cannot be farther from the truth. I love this fanfiction but have not had a moment to continue it in some time until now. As you may have read--the title--the following is a re-make of the last chapter posted and that had been deleted.

The last chappie caused so much confusion; I had no choice but to remove it. I hope that this one clears up any confusion.

Thank you & Good Reading,

Madmissymel

P.S. Please Review- I know you hear it a lot but I ready do want to hear what you have to say. Compare this chappie to the one I delete, if you are a returning reader and welcome if you are just joining.


	11. Chapter 11

Re-Write of Last Chapter

Ginny stepped out into the yard. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The birds were chirping, children were playing and laughing gaily. Nothing could be wrong in the world expect everything. A very black cloud hung over Ginny's head. She was not supposed to love her enemy. She was suppose to be mistress of the castle, she was suppose to be free but most of all, she was suppose to make sure her family was safe and happy.

Ever since the last escape attempt failed, Kayla and Bret had been followed everywhere but a arm soldier. Bret thought it was mostly a game of sorts but Kayla was not happy. It made everything worst when Kayla removed to speak with her. Instead, she sat in the company of Pansy. Ginny told herself that it was not by choice but by need. Being around Pansy meant that Kayla could sit and sew or read or whatever homey without having to worry about being interrupted. Pansy was often too drunk to even know that Kayla was there, five feet from her.

Ginny continued to walk as she toiled over her heart's desires and family problems. Slowly and unconsciously, she made her way outside the fortress gate and to the stables. There she lean against a Pollock's poll and continued to think.

Warlock, Ginny's black stallion, pulled her out of her thoughts. He pranced around the wooden ring, just as he had done when she came to see him. He wanted to be ridden but she knew she could not leave the area surrounding the castle. She did not even know if she could leave the castle. Warlock rubbed his valet nose against her hand causing her to jump and look up. She laughed at herself. He wanted to play. She began to run around in circle, then stop and turn around as if there was something behind him. Ginny laughed again and throw her hands in the air. She had started to climb in the pen but was stopped by Draco's hands encircling her waist. Slowly he placed her on the ground before him.

"You have a beautiful love, you should do it more often and that smile. Why don't you every smile like the that for me?" Draco was watching with care and noticed how the disappeared and her eyes shot down. "Nerva, would you like to go for a ride?" Draco's own horse was saddled and waiting by the doors of the sables. At once the smile returned as she run pass him to get her riding habit on.

Ginny returned 15 minutes later. Draco sat on his in a military fashion that did not look comfortable at all.

"Where is your whip?" he asked as she mounted Warlock.

"I do not use one on this mount. He is a bit of a free spirit but has never thrown me."

"'A bit of a free spirit', huh? Just like you, I guess."

Ginny did not say anything back. Instead, she rode out of the stable yard and into the open air. Draco admired Ginny's riding and her backside as they rode. "She seems in a world of her own." Draco thought. "I wonder what it would take for her to let me in?" "How did your mount get his name?" Draco asked trying to start a whole conversation.

"My father bought him for me when I was sixteen for my birthday. He was wild and would not let anyone near him. One day I climbed over the fence and it was like a spell had been placed on us. Because of that magic I named him Warlock."

"He is a beautiful animal. He would sire great war horses, have you ever breed him?"

"No, and I do not plan to." There was a challenge in her voice.

"You are a slave and slaves cannot own property."

Ginny was taken back by this claim statement but she knew Draco was right, she had just forgotten. "You must never let yourself forget," Ginny told herself. Silence and tension filled the air between them.

It was only when Warlock stopped and Ginny flicked his reins, did she realize where they were. The horses could go no farther because of the river. They were tucked away from the main road in a small meadow, where the river bent and pooled. Ginny had come here many times as a child. The fishing was good and the peace was even better.

"How do you know about this place?" Ginny asked, stunned that Draco seems to know ever inch of her land by heart.

"I did not until you showed me." Draco replied.

"Oh." Draco wondered how many times Ginny had come to the meadow to be alone. Her dismounted from his white mare then, went to her side to help her get off of Warlock's massive back.

He place his hands on her waist and lifted her effortlessly. He let her body run down his, so that they were toughing in all the wrong but yet, right places. Ginny moved away quickly but was stopped by Draco. He swung her around - into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

Ginny tried to push him away but the more she fought the tighter he held her. Pretty soon it was pointless to fight, both mentally and physically. Ginny relaxed and closed her eyes, knowing pleasure would soon follow. She could fell Draco smile against her lips as he nugded his nose against hers gently. Then he kissed her again and Ginny saw stars as his tongue invaded her mouth.

Draco's hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Ginny's knees began to weaken and she rapped her arms around his neck to help support herself. Draco's hands finally rested. One at the back of her spine, where he groped her flesh. The other under the waterfall of flaming curls at the base of her head. Then he positioned her head just so, and Ginny was at a loss.

The kisses became rougher and both began to need more. Slowly, Draco trailed hot, wet kisses up her cheek and to her ear. From there he worked his way down her throat and into her shoulder. He pushed aside dress and to kiss ever freckle that covered her milky flesh. Final, Draco came to the area where Ginny's shoulder met her shoulder once more.

He licked her skin gently, whispering sweet nothings against it as he did. Then his teeth sunk into the soft skin. Ginny jumped and then, moaned as Draco ran his tongue over the impression his teeth had made. He repeated the process again and again. Ginny's knees gave out when Draco not only licked the area he had marred but began to suck it as well. Ginny fell from him only to be caught a moment later and laid onto the ground.

Ginny felt the warmth of Draco's body leave hers as he got up and went to his horse. He took the saddlebag from the mare's back and opened it. Inside there was a wool blanket. He laid the blanket down and motioned for her to roll onto it. Ginny did as he wanted and watched as he removed his sword belt from his waist.

He laid down next to her and began to kiss her again. She could feel the need in his kiss and welcomed it. Slowly, he began to undress her, kissing each new piece of bare skin. Once down to her under things, Draco stopped and admired his work. But that moment ended as Draco's hand made its way up the inside of her thigh. Ginny rudder her legs together as the gathering heat started to boil over.

His hand covered her triangle of red curls. He cupped her roughly and at first chance his thumb slid through her slick folds. He started to encircle her entrance and press his thumb into her. Draco mount her she she tried to close her legs around his hand. He moved his fingers against her, hard. His thumb was replaced with his index and middle finger, both of which entered her without a moment's notice. His thumb rubbed her bliss button as the his fingers worked her into a frizzy of pleasure.

Ginny's head rolled from side to side as she moaned and begged for lease. Draco smiled as she came to the height of her climax. He took her nipple into his mouth and that was all that was needed. Ginny cried out in pleasure as Draco suckled her breast.

Smiling, Draco remain on top of Ginny as her breathing returned to normal. He was braced on his elbows watching her. His legs and pelvis were pressed firmly between her legs. Ginny moaned as he shifted pulsing member against her bliss button. Her blood was beginning to run again.

Draco removed his shirt and untied the waist ban of his buckskin pants. Draco got his pants around his knees before Ginny arched her back and wrapped her legs around him. She moaned and started to pant as the crown of his staff entered her. She arched up again wanting to take him deeper but this time Draco was ready, he gripped her hips and thrusted into her molten cave. Ginny screamed and clinged to his body as he pushed in and pulled out of her body.

He removed her hands from his back and placed them at her side. He then rose up over her and pushed his way into her harder and faster than before. She turned to arch again but Draco pressed his hips down, stopping her. One hand griped Ginny from behind as Draco continued his pace. They were one is all ways.

Ginny's hands twisted and pulled on the blanket beneath them. She finished with a loud moan of contentment. Draco came a moment later due to the tightness of her inter-core. His seed flooded her gates as he smiled down at her.

Draco rolled off and out of her before clasping on the blanket. He pulled Ginny to his body, holding her in his arms and her head on his chest. He pulled the corner of the blanket round her shoulders so that the light breeze flowing across the meadow would not affect his now sleeping lover.

Draco woke just before dark. Their love making had left both himself and Ginny spent. Her head was placed directly above his heart and her red hair covered his chest. Draco picked up a piece of her hair and rolled it in between his fingers. He loved the rich color and how it caught the light of the setting sun.

Ginny began to stir as he sweetly kissed her forehead. She smiled up at him lazily.

"Hello, my sweet love, how are you feeling?" asked Draco.

"Delightfully sat," Ginny replied.

"That is how I like it." Ginny laughed and began to get up but yet again, Draco stopped her. "I did not plan for this to happen. I actually had something to talk to you about." Draco handed her her dress. Ginny pulled the dress and sat up next to him.

"Will what is it?"

"One moment." Draco got up from the blanket.

"Not fair you get to get up and I do not."

"I am lord of this land and what I say goes." Ginny watched his backside move across the meadow. He picked up his saddlebag and turned. Ginny blushed and turned her head away as he... mmmmm... waved in the wind. "Nerva, I need to know something very important and I want the truth."

"What is it?"

Draco reached into his bag and pulled out a long piece of willow wood a.k.a. Bret's practice wand. Ginny's heart stilled in her chest.

"Nerva, I know this is a wand and I know it belongs to someone in your family. What I want to know is if you are a Witch?"

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

July 2007

"Je... je... je suis pas."

"Answer me! Are you or not?" Ginny could not see a bright light at the end of the tunnel so she bowed her head and nodded. "Who else is your family and in the staff?"

"Bret, that is his practice wand, Cookie, and Lavender. There are a few in the village who are good with potions and charms. Some healers too. Longbottom, the gardener, can make any thing grow but little else. Other than that, I don't know."

"What about Kayla?"

"No, Kayla is a muggle. My brother got her pregnant and decided to do the right thing by marrying her. The baby died a month after Bill did."

"Does your muggle staff know about magic?"

"No, we keep our wands hidden and use very little magic."

"So, I still have to hid this, do I?" Draco pulled another wand from the bag. This one was longer than Bret's and made out of a darker, almost black, wood.

"You are a wizard! You ass. You-I thought I was done for. I though you were going to burn me at the stake."

"I could never do that. I enjoy you too much. We had better be heading back to the castle before they send out a search party."

Ginny nodded. She was kind of glad that Draco knew she was witch. It was a load lifted from her shoulders. But she was going to have words with Kayla. Her sister-in-law should have told her the wand was missing.

Draco helped her onto the back of Warlock and away they rode - into the sunset.

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It was not until two days later that Ginny corner Kayla in the yard. "How could you not tell me? We could all be dead because of you. And not just our family. The staff, those who do and do not have the gift, everyone. You put us all into great danger. Now, I want to know why?"

"Why what?' Kayla asked coyly.

"Why would you put us all into danger? Do you want us to be killed?" Kayla continued to stare at her as if she had done nothing wrong. "Answer me, damn it."

"Better dead, than to live with the shame you have brought to this family. You whore." With that Kayla walked away.

Ginny felt herself losing control of her emotions. She was angry, ashamed, and most of all, hurt. She ran from the yard, through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the rooms she and Draco shared.

Master Malfoy found her after dinner crying atop their bed. Draco tried to comfort her but nothing would work.

"What would you have me do?" Draco asked.

"Send her away, Draco. She does not belong here. Send her away." See it as his option to stop Ginny's tears he agreed. Kayla was to leave in one week.

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Ronald Weasley had made his way to London. He had told his sister's story to everyone who would listen but nobody really believe him until he show them the ring and then, everyone was listening, including the King of England, Severus Snape.

"A slave, you say?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Tell again. How did you come by this ring?"

"My father saved a young boy's life, who he did not know. That boy turned out to be the Duke of Normandy - you, your Highness. When my father died, the ring was given to my eldest brother, William, who gave it to his wife for their child. The child died shortly after my brother and then the ring went to my sister.

"My sister gave the ring to me when I was there to get her back from your man, Draco de Malfoy."

"How did you sister become a slave?"

"She challenged your man on the field of honor...and lost, your highness."

"My debt is with your father but I will look into the matter. You have my word as a King and as a gentleman."

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Ginny did not have to worry about what her sister would say or felt when she learned that she was leaving, raiders had burned down the mill and several of the serfs houses. At the moment the widow young Anderson was losing everything for a second time. Her house was on the far reaches of Draco's land and had been the last house burned.

Ginny pitied the widow. She had lost her husband only six months ago and had given birth to her son just three months ago. Hermione tried to make the best of everything but this was too much. Ginny watched as her sat down on a rock in a daze. Ginerva watched her world begin to fall apart but before she could do anything to help Draco called her to him.

"Nerva, take the widow and she son to the castle." Draco was covered in soot. He had been on the water line, trying to save the widow's home. "See that she is made comfortable." Ginny nodded. She didn't want to think about what he was going to say next. "I'm leading a band of men to make sure the raiders are out of the area. I should be back in a few weeks, Blaise is in charge and if I should not return, I have left instruction for you and your family with Blaise." Ginny nodded again. "Nerva, you know I have to keep these people safe and do not look at me like that. I will be back. Now, are you going to give me a good bye kiss or am I going to have to take it."

But before Ginny could answer, Draco scooped her into his arms. When he let her down again Ginny was hardly breathing. "I will send a massager ahead of me on my way back so you can prepare yourself for me."

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Weeks went by without hearing from Draco. Pansy was even saying that if he did come back soon she was returning to Normandy. No one was barred her way; in fact, several had offered to drive the carriage.

Ginny sat in her room, her head over a chamber pot. Ginny knew what was happening to her but she did not want to admit it. It hurt too much. She knew that she loved Draco and seeing Draco with Bret convinced her that he would make a wonderful father but...she was a slave and the relationship between a slave and her master could never be anything more than a whore and a free buyer.

Kayla made mattered worst. Draco had taking all the men that would have taken her to Scotland, the castle could not spare to lost of any more. At every meal, Ginny was faced with the scorn of Pansy but add the betray of Kayla, Ginny didn't know if she could handle everything until Draco came back...if he came back...especially with a baby on the way.

Ginny returned to her bed knowing that she would soon have to raise. There were orders to make and things to be delivered and several of the local farmers were still rebuilding their home. Ginny placed her foot onto the floor and began to got up but she would stopped as another wave of sickness lay claim to her stomach.

_KNOCK, KNOCK_

"Lady," Blaise said, "I have a matter that I would like to discuss with you. May I enter?"

Ginny prayed that he would not enter but...the door opened a few seconds later. Blaise stood in the doorway, a roll of parchment in hand. Ginny's stomach gave her up. She dropped to her knee and emptied her tummy of what was left of her late dinner.

Blaise rushed across the room to her side. "Ginny. Ginny, are you all right? Ginny, what should I do?"

"Just leave her be." A chilling voice from the door said. Kayla stood with her arms covered and a glare plastered on her face.

"Are you crazy? Your sister is faint and barely able to hold her head up. Go get one of the healer from the kitchen. Daisy or Rose or something. Just go get her."

"She does not need a healer. Being a simple-minded soldier, I would not expect you to know the signs of a woman in the family way. In just a few weeks the sickness will stop and then she will begin to grow and then comes the eating and the sleeping. She will become nothing more than a breed bitch...useless."

These words only severed to upset Ginny more and as Kayla said them, Ginny became sicker. Blaise got up from his seat on the floor next to Ginny. He marched over to Kayla and grabbed her arm. As he pulled her from the doorway, he whispered in her ear. Ginny could not hear what he was saying but as soon as Blaise let go of her, she ran down the hall and out of sight.

"My lady, do you wish for a healer to be sent to you?" Ginny would have shaken her head "no" but the motion to make the motion made her sicker. Instead she simply laid her head down against the cool floor. "Ginny, this just arrived. It a massive from Lord Malfoy." Ginny lifted her head. "He reserved a note from the king three weeks ago and had gone to London. My lady, he was called to London because Pansy's parents have come at last. My lord wishes that a wedding feast is readied for himself and our honored guests, which includes the king.

"Mistress, his lordship plans to wed Lady Pansy by the end of the week. In the letter, I'm to remove you from these chambers and place you in the tower for the time being." Blaise watched as Ginny made little movement both physically or emotionally. She seemed to be processing everything.

A tear slipped passed her dark lashes and down her cheek. "Leave me so that I can pack, please."

Blaise was about to ask if she would like help getting off the floor but he knew her pride would never allow him to help her. He made his way out of the room and closed the door behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note:August, 2006

Hello to all my faithful readers,

Many of you have or would have noticed that I have deleted Revenge the Fanfiction. I have done so because in the a few day, I will be posting a redone version. A lot of things have changed but the basic story line is still there.

I'll have to see what I mean when I say that a lot of things had changed. As always, the 5th and the 6th book are not out or even exist. Sirius Black and Dumbledore are not dead and yet, the war is over. I hate War. I find it to be a mindless act of man.

Thank you all for Reviewing on my last Chappie, when I posted the Chappie before that one and only got two notices I was a bit worried.

Madmissymel


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